Tag: #anxiety

Coping Strategy For The Nonce

The world, not just our nation, is in chaos. Wars, incursions, kidnapping, school shootings and women and mothers are being destroyed by the dozens. Some in places where their safety has been guaranteed by a democratic constitution. As a woman who is known to be mouthy, that kind of frightens me…..A LOT! I try not to think beyond prayers to the families because that path leads to panic and sleepless nights.

Unemployment gives me time to think. Its helpful to untangle the plot knots I often find myself ensnarled in, but not so good for the anxiety which makes it impossible to concentrate. Writing gives me escape from my stress and anxiety, crocheting provides an outlet and a filler for times when I’m trying to ruminate on my problems. It also fills a need for me to help out in the world without totally getting involved….by that I mean leaving my bedroom and bird and actually putting actions to my beliefs. Crochet isn’t going to be enough while this country spirals through the machinations of a greedy and slowly dissolving mind.

So, what to do….

A friend at church has started TRAC Indivisible which sent me to a site http://www.mobilize.us. It’s a platform dedicated to help us to, well, mobilize and realize we aren’t alone in this struggle to restore the America like-minded patriots believe in. After signing up for TRAC Indivisible mobilize.us directed me to SURJ (Showing Up for Racial Justice) group. I’ve attended one Zoom meeting which covered the wins and goals for the nationwide group. The first meeting for TRAC Indivisible is IRL this Saturday and I can see what I can physically do. Talking about it isn’t enough any more, it only adds to the angry and terrifying spinning in my head. I’m hoping by doing something tangible, like the crochet does for the anxiety in my immediate sphere of influence, I will surmount my fear and anxiety over the local, national and global terror playing out on all news outlets every freaking day.

If the current state of the union is tweaking your anxiety and you think doing something will help, please check out SURJ at http:mobilize.us. You will need to certify yourself, that you’re not a bot or whatever. If you are in my area, Tracy and San Juaquin County, you can sign up for TRAC Indivisible.

I’m afraid I will fail. My CBT rebuttal to that unkind thought is: Failing means I tried. Failing means I was moving forward. Not all paths are marked, not all roads are paved and sometimes you have to stick your toe in hot water before you realize it’s perfect for a long soak.

Reflecting on Life: A Robin’s Journey to Freedom

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This isn’t my photo. I found it on BlueSky. It just spoke to me. The single branch swamped in dark water with a single red breasted robin on it’s arthritic finger. It is a story of rebirth, renewal and recovery from a dark and solitary life to the freedom of a bird to soar on the winds of time. Too dramatic? Possibly. I just really like this picture, it gives me hope.

Eviction Day

Well, I did it. I finally finished the third book in my trilogy. I can now evict the people who have been squatting in my head for the last, what feels like, 100 years. The time differential between the time I wrote it (March 1 until April 8) feels like the whole eighteen months which elapsed on paper. I realize a lot of my anxiety from the pressure of time was from the fictional days flying off the imaginary calendar, not the real one. I wrote close to 500 pages in about 40 days. It’s both amazing and dumbfounding and makes me wish I could just sit and write for a living. Adventures in publishing awaits; Any advice?

Be Fruitful

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I love the saturation of the color on the orange and it reminds me that all the work I’ve done with my roots has brought forth strong limbs that has born beautiful fruit.

Constant Vigilance Is Everything

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The color attracted me. Its like purple with a green undertone. Then I realized it represented how insidious depression can be. I broke a long time ago and I’ve been putting the pieces back together wanting to be whole and then a hidden root wiggles it way though a crack to remind me I’m not. The positive take-away from this image is just a little concerted effort and the little tendril of doubt/sadness/darkness can be yanked out and the crack repaired. All it takes is constant vigilance.

Better Later Than Never

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Christmas trees are lovely things and they bring to memories of happy times. But it’s MARCH. This just made me think of “Better Late than Never”.

Glimmers

This is something I learned about at the beginning of the year. It’s called a Glimmer…

A glimmer is the opposite of a trigger. Glimmers are those moments in your day that make you feel joy, happiness, peace or gratitude. Once you train your brain to be on the lookout for glimmers, those tiny moments will appear more and more.

So, I’m going to try and post my daily glimmers which I normally find on my morning walks. Some make me smile, some remind me of truisms I often forget when I’m busy trying. Stay tuned.

Starting Over…..Again

Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start now and make a brand new ending.

Carl Bard

I used this quote in my Birthday Blues Early post what feels like 100 years ago. It is more relevant now than it was then because it feels like I’m starting from zero in my public life. I’m trying to step in time with the spring renewal and make a new start with what seems to be a world against me. As an unemployed woman who is actively battling high functioning depression with a heaping side of anxiety I feel most days aren’t worth getting out of bed for. I toy with the idea of going on disability but I know it won’t get me to my goals…..and my goals are everything. But I am getting out of bed, and I am fighting the good fight most days.

The absence…

My absence from the blog wasn’t planned. I thought about it often but my job had become too much for me to do anything else other than work, eat and sleep. I stopped going to church, I stopped writing in my journal, I stopped writing period and I stopped sharing my struggle (which had almost become a pleasant journey instead of the arduous saga of anger and sadness it started as).

I’ve been able to track this physical change back to January 2024 when I got COVID-19 for the first time. My symptoms started a week before the traditional COVID symptoms started. I got the gastro-intestinal start, and with IBS it’s hard to tell the difference. I used all my sick days (5 work days) and went back to work feeling not totally well but I persevered and I slowly eased back into the workload.

then, people quit, people were fired, people changed positions and I ended up working alone which caused the lingering COVID to encourage my IBS into overload……or over un-load, if you will. I was taking an antidiarrheal every third day and being completely exhausted when I got home to the point I had to sit in my car for 15-20 minutes after the drive to just rest.

My symptoms progressed to sever bouts of nausea, light headedness and my eyes pinning down to a single point of light if I stood to long……Essentially I couldn’t work. I took a month off to find out what was going on. When I went back I was okay according to the tests and paperwork but I wasn’t. The company and I found it mutually beneficial if we parted ways and I’ve been unemployed since.

Now…

Being unemployed is both a boon and a bane. My hope is these intervening months of rest have strengthened me physically and mentally. I will say, the holidays were hard and dark and somewhat dicey for my mental health. I continued to employ the tools I have learned in therapy like breathing and CBT, I took my medication religiously, and I crocheted a lot and listened to a multitude of books.

Additionally, I’ve prepared the first book in my trilogy for publication, completely wrote the second book and I am outlining the third book….when I’m not telling myself I’d be better off dead. Suicide does not align with my goals for life or the afterlife so I know not to take it seriously but it upsets me when my brain falls back to the old coping mechanisms. It does remind me how much I need to be ever mindful of my recovery. I don’t like feeling ‘the void’ in the background but I am very proud of myself that I am aware of it and I am fighting the good fight to get away from it.

People Are Annoying

Not all people are annoying, just the ones that seem to come into my office this week. To help take the edge off we’ve devised a Bingo game called C.R.A.Z.Y., so when stupid/funny/annoying things happen we get to mark a square. We have five different cards with some overlapping squares. Everyone gets a FAINTS and OLD MAN TAKES OFF HIS SHIRT INSTEAD OF ROLLING UP HIS SLEEVE, and of course the FREE square.

The most annoying thing which happened this week is people feel the need to tell me all the things that are wrong with my company, as if I could actually do something about it for them. I’m all for customer service from the time you walk into the office until you walk out again, and that’s where it stops. I will not tilt at the capitalist machine for anyone. I have no power. I have no control. I’m good with that. I bluntly tell them in hopes they would just shut up and go away but they interpret my plastic smile as an invitation to continue. One man couldn’t set up an appointment on our website because he wanted to do it during our closed hours. (not making this up). He complained that he had made several appointments for the same day but his name didn’t show up in the confirmation. Finally he called IT and they gave him an appointment for a time he didn’t want because…..he had already booked them with Name Unknown. Luckily for me the conversation took place on the phone and he couldn’t see me trying to do a Darth Vader neck squeeze at the handset.

Another one came in complaining about how America is all messed up because no one can do their job right. He broke a bone and after three hospitals and two ambulance rides in Hong Kong he was all better and paid less than $100 for his trouble. That, in his opinion, is medicine done right. He was in getting a stool sample kit for a hospital transmitted illness. Irony totally flew over this retired pilots head. He brought our competitions requisition for the super delux stool sample kit he paid for which said in perfectly modulated text the name of a single test. Again, he acted as if I or my colleagues could or would do something to fix the whole grand scheme. As a pilot for a well known airline he assured me if anyone had experienced the same level of incompetence on a flight they would recieve a check for $5,000. In this day and age, if the plane took someone to the wrong destination I can assure you it’s because the idiot got on the wrong plane and the airline would be charging his credit card to its limit for the extra cost of the fare. He brought his son in on his second trip in to assure me I didn’t give him an order for a different test. He ordered him around like some assistant, making him get the information we already had off his phone to prove to me he had an order for a full gastro-intestinal stool sample kit, which had nothing to do with what I asked him to bring in. While I was researching it, again, my co-workers and other patients in the lobby were regaled about how his son is going to be a pilot and how his starting salary is going to be $300k a year. His son was silent and just stood there miserable and cringing at his elderly fathers behavior. I say elderly not because he was old but because he brought up how old he was and how it would be unfair for me to make him to go home again and look for the requisition and bring it back in because of his advanced age.

Maybe it’s just because of my experiences but is the whole freaking world filled with narcissists? Or do I just attract them? I get technology is frustrating if you haven’t bothered to keep up with it, or if you don’t have Geeks in your family to tell you to Google it when you have problems, I get closures are inconvenient but that doesn’t guarantee you a pass when it comes to the necessary information needed to process an order in the medical world with all the mandatory rules and government regulations imposed on labs.

These encounters are stirring up some subconscious detritus adding to my already stressed out nature with the season and work in general. My dreams last night were of my mother, She moved out and sent an ombudsman to inform me she was leaving and it was my fault. I told my sister I wanted to move far away for when she decided the place couldn’t meet her expectations and would manipulate her way back. I told the man she was a narcissist and abusive he just replied, “I know.” But he was still doing his job.

So, what have I learned? People are unbelievably annoying. I’ve lived this and I know this, and all I can do is take deep breaths and keep doing my job.

Passive Participation

I’m waiting for the third keynote speaker of the conference to step up to the podium at the 8th annual (I think) LDSPMA Conference 2023 Saturday Morning Session. I thought I was paying for more but I just get live feed of the keynotes and then access to recordings of of the breakout sessions in November. Which is fine because I couldn’t afford to fly to Utah, pay for a hotel/car/food and boarding for Sammy this year. This is the conference I was pushing myself to get my first draft done in Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed so I could pitch it to publishers. I decided I would pitch my other completed novel to the publishers in the virtual fast-pitch at the end of next week but those publishers had already rejected the manuscript several years ago. [If you’d like to read the first chapter you can find it here.]

There is a lot of in-person networking involved at the conference which, honestly, terrifies me. I’m affable enough when my anxiety is ramped up to full luminosity, which is how I’ve survived and functioned in the world my whole life. However, the fall-out of pushing myself is very painful and lasts for weeks after as I nit-pick and denigrate myself for every little mistake the anxiety has magnified from that time. Doing social things like meeting strangers, remembering their names and the conversations, yadda, yadda, yadda quickly depletes my nerves and temporarily wipes my memory like a prolonged trauma. Doing that over a three day period makes me winge over how long it would take for me to recover sufficiently to function in my life again. My job requires me to be out and among the world every day and to be cheerful and nice to EVERYONE even when they annoy the living daylights out of me. I will say I am stronger for the daily torture it provides but I see the effects on my emotional state at the end of the week. And that’s when it doesn’t matter. This matters! This is my foothold into the publishing world and possibly an agent. Someone who will do the footwork and networking for me so I can passively sit in my writing space and, well, write.

So the goals are to sit and watch the keynote speakers, to listen to the breakout sessions in my track, and then apply them into my writing life. Next year I will choose to actively participate and be prepared with manuscript(s) in hand, a smile genuinely plastered on my painted face and an emotional equilibrium to sustain me until I get home to read through all the offers to publish my copious selection of completed works. Wish me luck!!